


for now I'll love you through the phone

by scarletred



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Charles is in Monaco and Pierre is in Dubai, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life, at least for the time being, living that pandemic life, so they facetime/skype a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletred/pseuds/scarletred
Summary: Charles is in Monaco. Pierre is stuck in Dubai. Somehow they make it work.
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Comments: 33
Kudos: 69
Collections: F1 Fandom Unity Exchange





	for now I'll love you through the phone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Animalceramics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animalceramics/gifts).

> Hello!! I could choose the pairing and I've been meaning to write some Pierre/Charles for a long time so I hope you're okay with my choice.
> 
> I just realised I could have titled this "love in the time of coronavirus" lmao wasted opportunity. Title from the song _ For Now_ by Lauv. It's amazing and Charles sings it at some point in the fic, so go check it out if you want to.
> 
> Translation of the French bits in the notes at the end
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!
> 
> PS: don't ask me why but somehow they both ended up in self-isolation all alone, no trainers around :( poor boys

**WEEK 1**

“_Bonjour, mon amour_” comes the familiar voice through the speaker.

Charles smiles at him from the top of his mug of coffee.

“Good morning, Pierre.”

“How are y-”

“Did you sl-”

They talk over each other like they often tend to do. Pierre’s cute little laugh gets distorted by the poor connection, but it still warms Charles’s heart.

“You go first” he says.

“I was just asking if you’re okay.” Pierre sighs. “All things considered.”

Charles tilts his head to the side, a soft look on his face. International code for _oh Pierre, why are you so cute?_ Years together and sometimes he still wants to break down crying whenever he is reminded of how precious his boyfriend is.

“I am” he replies, not wanting to add any worry to the amount he’s sure Pierre is feeling already.

Pierre quirks an eyebrow and frowns. Yeah, he’s not buying it. Charles should have known.

“Okay, _fine_. What do you want me to say? I miss you like crazy and I’m lonely and there’s a fucking pandemic outside.” Pierre’s face saddens. He can’t allow that so he’s quick to add something else. “And my coffee is shit.”

His boyfriend shakes with laughter at that and Charles mentally pats himself on the back.

“You still fighting with my Christmas gift?”

“Yes. That thing is a- a-” he can’t quite find the right words. “It’s an insult to coffee makers. It’s not even Italian, Pierre.”

“Oh poor boy is used to luxury and _Italian coffee_ now” Pierre mocks him.

Charles pouts while his boyfriend happily eats some of his cereal from the bowl in front of him. How pathetic is it that he misses even the stupid noises he makes whilst eating? He usually hates them.

The white of his hoodie doesn’t quite manage to conceal the unusual paleness of his skin tone or the dark circles under his eyes. Charles’s heart clenches at the sight.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” he asks, concern pouring into his voice.

Pierre shrugs without meeting his eyes. Still battling with insomnia then. He wishes he could help somehow, but they both know that Pierre has always managed to sleep properly only in Charles’s arms. They can’t do that now. God knows when they’ll be able to do it again.

Charles moves to grab a biscuit from the packet, accidentally hitting it and making his phone – that was carefully balanced against it – fall. Why is he so clumsy?

Pierre’s laugh gets muffled by the table, but he still manages to hear it.

“_Mon Dieu_, Charles! What did you do?”

He hastily stuffs the biscuit into his mouth, then wipes his hands on his sweatpants, trying to get rid of the crumbs before picking up his phone. Pierre gasps as soon as he comes into view again.

“Cookies for breakfast? Have you lost your mind already, Charles Leclerc?” he teases.

Charles smirks: “I have to take my daily dose of sugar somehow and you’re not here so…”

He starts humming _Sugar_ by Maroon 5 and Pierre abruptly ends their FaceTime call. Rude.

**WEEK 2**

“I choose the movie!” Pierre shouts from his laptop.

“No, you already chose last week” replies Charles, still looking for the remote.

He turns his back to the screen, moving the pillows around, just as Pierre’s indignant “what?!” explodes into the air. Oh, there it is! He sits back down while turning the TV on.

“You’re not fooling me, Pierre. You chose last week so it’s my turn now.”

Pierre pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, bulging his muscles and hoping to be subtle as he tries to distract Charles and win the argument. It’s endearing, really. It also doesn’t work at all.

“I know what you are doing, _Pear_.” He turns his attention to the TV screen, flicking through the Netflix catalogue trying to spot something interesting. His face suddenly lights up and Pierre knows what he’s about to say before Charles even opens his mouth. “Can we watch _Mamma Mia_?”

“Again?”

Charles huffs and keeps scrolling, disappointment clear on his face. He knows he’s being a bit childish, but he loves the sense of comfort that comes from singing off-key renditions of famous ABBA songs with his favourite person in the world.

“Charles?” There’s a softness in Pierre’s voice that means he caved. “Charles, okay, let’s watch it again.”

Charles turns to look at his boyfriend, beaming: “_Merci, Pierrot_. You’re the best.”

Pierre rolls his eyes before starting with the countdown. They’ve been watching movies like this for ages, back when they were only friends and their parents wouldn’t let them have the third sleepover of the week. Now they still have to resort to this method whenever their work commitments don’t allow them to be together. If Charles focuses on that, he can pretend that this is just one of those occasions. Convince himself that Pierre will be sitting next to him on the couch soon enough.

“You insisted so much and now you’re not even going to annoy me with your singing abilities?” Pierre’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry, I spaced out for a second” he replies.

Pierre studies him for a second, but doesn’t comment on it.

They watch the movie, pointing out things that somehow they had never noticed before and planning their dream holiday in Donna’s island. As usual they end up arguing over who is hotter between Pierce Brosnan and Colin Firth and peace returns when they agree that Meryl Streep is simply the coolest human being ever.

They are dancing around their rooms when Charles’s TV suddenly turns black. The lights are out too. If it wasn’t for the pale glow coming from his laptop, he would be in total darkness. _Dancing Queen_ plays faintly from Pierre’s hotel room until he stops the movie.

“Charles? What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a power outage.” He glances outside. No light from the streetlamps either. “Looks like there’s a blackout in the whole area.”

He finds his way back to the couch, Pierre sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Can you see me?” he asks, startling his poor boyfriend. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no.”

“Yeah, I can’t see you at all. I’m afraid our movie night ends here” Pierre sadly admits.

“We’ll have another one soon! And you’ll call me for breakfast tomorrow, right?”

Pierre nods: “Of course. Goodnight, Charles.”

“_Bonne nuit, mon cœur. Dors bien_” he whispers as Pierre waves at him before ending the Skype call.

**WEEK 3**

“C’mon, Charles! You can do it!” his boyfriend encouragingly shouts at him.

Charles reluctantly gets up again, jumps half-heartedly with his arms stretched over his head. Then he lowers down on the floor, doing a quick push-up and letting himself fall to the ground afterwards.

“One more! Just one more!” Pierre tells him.

“I’m dead” he whines. “You can have my Ferrari seat if you want it.”

Charles can’t see Pierre’s eye roll in reaction to his usual overdramatic antics, but he doesn’t need to.

“Don’t make fun of the dead, Pierre. It’s wrong.”

Pierre sighs heavily, wondering what crimes he must have committed during his previous lives to end up with someone like this in the current one.

“If you’re really dead, why can I still hear you talking?” he asks.

“Because I’m your one true love. Not even death can fully separate us” comes Charles’s reply. He sounds so serious that Pierre wouldn’t be surprised to discover he has actually given this some thought in his spare time.

“And people say I’m the romantic one” Pierre snorts.

“Eh, I try my best.”

Pierre starts laughing and Charles follows suit. He’s in love with an idiot, yes, but the most adorable idiot ever. He won’t tell him that though.

“C’mon now, you’ve had time to catch your breath.” Charles whines, but Pierre ignores him. “We have to do the same exercise we were doing earlier, do you remember it?”

Charles shakes his head, so Pierre moves away from the camera to demonstrate it. He actually does remember how it was, like he’d ever forget how attractive Pierre looked as he flexed and bent.

“Did you get it now? Do you need me t-” Pierre turns around and Charles isn’t quick enough to divert his eyes away from the curve of Pierre’s ass. “You idiot! You just wanted an excuse to check me out!” he shouts, offended.

Charles’s cheeks turn red and he nibbles his lower lip, not really having a reply.

“If you don’t waste any more time pretending to be tired” Pierre begins, being interrupted by Charles. “I wasn’t pretending!” Pierre gives him a dirty look, shutting him up. “If we don’t waste more time because of you, we could do more fun activities later” he suggests.

Charles almost chokes on his own saliva, his body moving to do the exercises before his brain even tells it to.

“Yes, Charles, my good boy” Pierre winks at him.

Either because of the killer training session or because of his boyfriend, Charles already knows he’s going to die today.

**WEEK 4**

They stare at each other in silence. 4766 kilometres between them. It was bound to hit them at some point. Apparently one month apart is their limit.

Pierre is the first one to break down. He starts full-on sobbing all of a sudden. One minute he’s just looking at Charles on the screen and the next he’s curled up on himself as he cries his heart out.

And Charles, he wants to melt down too, but his throat is closed off and he fears he might not be able to keep breathing if he adds tears and sobs to the mix.

“I just-” Pierre chokes out before another wave of salty water erupts down his cheeks. “I just miss you so much” he sighs. “I hate this. I hate it so much.”

Charles bats the moist blurriness away from his own eyes, he has to be strong. He has to try to at least. Pierre needs him to be strong.

“Pierre” he whispers. “Pierre, look at me, please.”

Pierre shakes his head and hugs himself even tighter, the sleeves of his hoodie giving him sweater paws. Charles wishes he could reach out and hold his hands. Reach out and hold him as he shakes. Whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he calms down. But he can’t. He can’t and he doesn’t know what to do now. His boyfriend is stuck in another country – between them an entire sea and then some – and he doesn’t know what to do.

It’s only when he registers the wheezing breaths that he realises he has started crying too. He frantically wipes his tears away, knowing full well that there’s no way Pierre hasn’t seen them. He feels so stupid and useless.

“I’m sorry” he breathes out, voice shaky. He blinks at the screen and another veil of tears surfaces. “I’m sorry. You’re sad and I just made it worse. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be silly. Sorry for what? Feeling emotions?” Pierre reassures him before cracking a smile. “I’d have to worry if you didn’t miss me at all.”

Charles’s innate sarcasm perks up at that: “Who said I’m crying because I miss you?”

It’s the most uninspired joke ever, but it elicits a laugh from Pierre so he counts it as a win.

“I wish you were here” Pierre confesses.

“Yeah, me too” Charles quickly agrees, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He already has to do some laundry anyway.

“So I could punch you on the arm for pretending you don’t miss me” Pierre adds, smiling.

Charles places a hand on his heart: “Ouch, _mon trésor_, you wound me. How can I beg for your forgiveness after committing such a terrible crime?”

Pierre throws the pillow he was hugging to the camera, making Charles laugh. They are going to be okay.

**WEEK 5**

“Are you ready?” Charles asks, adjusting the camera angle. “I want cheers and everything, okay?”

Pierre makes an annoyed face as he hums: “Yes, _popstar_, go ahead.”

Charles tentatively strums the strings for a few seconds before stopping to clear his throat.

“Hi everyone!” he smiles and waves at his audience of one. “My name is Charles and I’ll be playing some songs for you tonight.”

Pierre screams making him blush. He did ask for this after all.

“_Merci, merci_. Thank you. You’re very loud today, I like it. Okay, let’s go.”

He starts playing the first song he ever learnt on guitar: _Yellow_ by Coldplay. Pierre listens to him intently, singing along every now and then. When he has finished Pierre starts clapping enthusiastically.

“This next song is very special to me because it’s one I wrote when I was sixteen. It’s about a boy I had a crush on. I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings. I didn’t know how to tell my best friend that I loved him without ruining everything. So I wrote a song. And he’s my boyfriend now.” Pierre whoops loudly, heart already going soft at the memory of the first time he listened to that song. “He’s here tonight by the way so make sure to give him a big applause now!” Pierre shakes his head fondly, but still claps and cheers like he would do for a stranger.

He starts singing again, only in French this time. With every note he remembers with fondness his younger self, scared and full of worry as he poured his heart out via music. He sings with his eyes closed today too, not out of fear at the idea of facing Pierre’s reactions, but to focus solely on the lyrics. They are a bit cheesy and simple, but he loves this song nonetheless. How could he not?

“_Je t’aime aussi_” Pierre tells him, a bit teary-eyed. Just like he did all those years ago. He smiles at him before continuing with his little show.

“Okay. I would like to dedicate this next song to my incredible boyfriend.” Charles blows him a kiss before winking cheekily. “I hope my wonderful audience doesn’t mind me being extra sappy tonight.”

Pierre yells “we love you, Charles!” with the energy of a very devoted fan. In a way he is exactly that.

Charles nods in appreciation before taking a big breath. He has spent the past few days learning how to play this song and he hopes he doesn’t make any mistakes now.

At first Pierre is slightly confused, not really knowing what Charles is singing about, but halfway through the first verse he understands and he starts getting emotional, occasionally sniffling quietly. It’s a song about being far away from the person you love. It stings his eyes, but it’s also incredibly soft and heart-warming. Pierre feels himself fall in love with his boyfriend a bit more.

“Oh, Charles, that was so beautiful” he murmurs, afraid of ruining the moment.

Charles smiles sweetly at him, brushing a hand through his fringe in mild embarrassment.

“I’m glad you liked it.” _I wish I could kiss you right now_ he thinks.

“You’re getting snogged as soon as I’ll land in Nice, I promise.”

How did he- Wait.

“Did I say that out loud?” he asks, a part of him already knowing the answer.

“Yes, you did” Pierre replies. “My cheesy pop singer.”

Charles’s cheeks turn red, so he starts playing another song before he can turn into a blushing mess.

**WEEK 6**

It’s date night and Charles is wearing the neatest white shirt he owns. He even tried to style his hair for the first time in a week or so. It’s not like he has to make an impression – Pierre is already head over heels for him – but he still wants to look good for his boyfriend.

He calls Pierre then turns around to check if the oven is ready.

“_Ouh là là_! Are you going on a date or what?” Pierre teasingly asks as soon as he spots him.

Charles turns around and the sassy reply he had in mind dies on his tongue. Pierre somehow managed to dress up despite being confined with a suitcase mostly full of racing gear. He’s wearing _a blazer_. He looks breath-taking. Pierre blushes slightly and it only adds to his charm.

“Are you going to faint? Do I have to call an ambulance for you?” he jokes.

Charles’s brain starts working again and he finally closes his mouth and blinks.

“And before you ask I may have ordered a few clothes online” he adds.

Charles simply nods, not fully trusting his voice yet.

“So, how are you?” Pierre asks, pouring himself a glass of red wine.

Fuck, he could use some alcohol. Nobody should ever look that good in a kitchen. Nobody should ever look that good. Period. Especially not the boyfriend he loves and adores when there are so many stupid borders between them.

“Do you want me to go get changed? Jesus, I didn’t know you had a thing for men in formal wear.”

“I have a thing _for you_” he blurts out before he can help himself. He would facepalm if the situation wasn’t already embarrassing as it is.

Pierre giggles before turning flirty again: “What if I told you I got myself a new suit too?”

Charles groans and bangs his head against the kitchen counter. Is he trying to kill him or what? He tries to collect himself as Pierre snickers. When he looks up again he finds him messing about at the stove.

“What are you making?” he asks.

“_Pasta alla carbonara_” Pierre replies and Charles’s stomach growls. “What about you?”

Charles reluctantly lifts the frozen pizza so that Pierre can see it. Just as he expected his boyfriend shakes his head at him disapprovingly.

“I know, I know. I just can’t be bothered to be honest” he admits, shrugging.

“Ah, thanks” Pierre retorts, pretending to be offended.

“I love youuu!” Charles says, using his best sticky sweet voice and batting his eyelashes.

“Liar!” his boyfriend yells at him before guffawing in that high-pitched way of his. Charles is so in love.

**WEEK 0**

Pierre’s flight should have landed a while ago, but his boyfriend hasn’t texted him yet and Charles is starting to get antsy. He’s about to stop the first person he finds to ask them for information when he gets engulfed by someone.

His body recognises him as Pierre before his brain even does. He just fits so well in his arms. Finally. He doesn’t get a chance for a proper greeting because Pierre – true to his promise – promptly snogs him. In the middle of the arrivals lounge. He feels like a teenager again and normally he would be ashamed about their public display of affection, but this is Pierre and he’s finally here. With him. After so many weeks. He’s here. He feels dizzy on love and happiness and Pierre’s lips against his.

“You’re here” he exhales, sounding stunned. “You’re actually here.”

Pierre hums and brushes his cheekbones gently before letting go of his face. Charles almost whines at the loss of contact, but Pierre immediately holds his hand and starts dragging him away.

“Let’s go home” he says.

Charles nods and taking his next breath he realises that for the first time in forever it doesn’t feel so tight anymore. Pierre is home. He doesn’t need anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
Bonjour, mon amour - Good morning, my love  
Mon Dieu - My God  
Merci - Thank you  
Bonne nuit, mon cœur. Dors bien - Goodnight, sweetheart (literally "my heart"). Sleep well  
Mon trésor - My treasure  
Je t'aime aussi - I love you too
> 
> "Pasta alla carbonara" is, well, carbonara, I think it's known internationally?? It's a pasta dish anyway, verrrry delicious. But, of course, I'm biased. Wow now I'm hungry.
> 
> Let me know what you think!!
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr @ scharletred


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